Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As the caravan passed the first trail marker in the mountains, the wolves descended.

Cree had been tracking them all that morning. Their movements suggested they were mustering, gathering their pack as fast as they could for the ambush. Under normal circumstances, the beasts would never have been so bold and careless, but Ashok wasn’t surprised they were behaving erratically. The pack was in the grip of the same unnatural madness that had affected the trolls, drawn by Ilvani’s dream visions to the caravan. The entire crew was alert, ready to put in motion the plan Ashok, Daruk, and Tuva had concocted. They were as prepared as they were going to be to weather the storm.

Ashok knew the moment the nightmare sensed the wolves’ presence. The stallion’s whole body quivered, muscles straining to attack, but Ashok held him in check. His biggest fear was not that the nightmare would surge forward prematurely but that he would utter the cry that sent the caravan into chaos.

“Keep the beast silent,” Vlahna had told him before they started into the mountains, “or I’ll put an arrow in its throat.”

Ashok touched the nightmare’s mane, running his fingers through the warm black strands in a calming gesture.

“If you scream now, everything is lost.” He leaned forward to whisper in the stallion’s ear. “You know what I want from you-fire and speed. Give me those, and you will have your wolf blood. You’ll feast on their carcasses.”

The nightmare snorted, and once again, the words may not have been there, but the emotions passed between them like shouts. The nightmare would not cry out. He would hold himself in check.

The wolves reached the trail ahead of them. A high-pitched whistle rent the air, and at the signal, the drovers dropped flat to their bellies on the backs of the wagon horses. Guards rose up behind them in the wagons and let loose with crossbow bolts. Some of them missed, but enough hit that the wolves pulled back from their initial charge and spread out to get at their flanks.

The horses saw the wolves and went wild. Draped over their backs, the drovers kept the wagon horses from bolting, but there were screams and chaos all through the line. They’d expected that-it was the drovers’ and passengers’ job to keep them in check while the warriors fought.

Tuva, still wounded, fired a crossbow from the back of Ilvani’s wagon. Daruk was there also. He had his eyes closed-Ashok hoped he was preparing a spell, but he thought it just as likely the bard was meditating as if before a performance.

Restless, the nightmare stomped his hooves and uttered a sound deep in his throat that sounded very much like a growl.

“Almost,” Ashok said. The wolves ran along the line in pairs. The crossbow bolts wouldn’t keep them at bay for very much longer. They were too far gone for caution. At this distance, Ashok couldn’t see their eyes, but he knew by the way they moved-with little grace and no thought of protecting their bodies from the crossbow quarrels-the madness gripped them fully.

Ahead of him, Cree and Skagi abandoned their horses to the Martuck woman, Leesal, who dragged them behind a group of the rear wagons that had clustered together for defense. Mareyn covered her.

“Come on, Daruk, damn you,” Ashok muttered.

Finally, the bard opened his eyes and stood up. He jumped over the side of the wagon and landed in a crouch. From his belt, he drew a slender black wand. Unornamented, the item nevertheless glowed with shadowy radiance. Daruk raised it above his head and brought its end down against the ground. At the same instant, he sang a single low note that echoed throughout the pass.

“Time for the show!” Daruk cried. He threw his head back and laughed-a dark sound that echoed like music. “Goddess, take them into your arms and show them what the shadow truly is!”

Black energy rippled over the ground like smoke, encircling the camp. Ashok felt a tremor go through his body when the shadows touched him. Strength filled him, a power that made his heart stumble in his chest. He was suddenly cold, colder than he’d ever been, but it was not the debilitating feeling he’d had on the trail. His mind was clear. He saw his enemies before him, and he knew he could crush them singlehandedly if he had to. The power was intoxicating. It filled him up and, when he could no longer take it in, Ashok knew he had to release it or he would die.

He must kill.

The nightmare’s flame ripped to life. The stallion felt the power too. It had claimed them both.

“Go,” Ashok whispered hoarsely, and the nightmare charged.

He rode alongside the caravan, his chain unfurled at his side to strike out at the first pair of wolves that tried to jump at the wagons. The nightmare’s flame warned one of them off, but the other leaped and blindly grabbed hold of Ashok’s chain with its teeth. It shook its head back and forth and tried to tear the weapon out of his grip, but Ashok held on and mangled the side of the monster’s jaw. The wolf hissed, and its icy breath caught Ashok in the arm. Steam rose in the air as fire met frost. The wolf put its massive paws against the nightmare’s flank to try to off balance the stallion, but the nightmare’s fire scalded hotter than it could stand. Yelping, it fell away.

Frost stiffened Ashok’s arm. He whipped his chain up into his hand and held it against the nightmare’s mane. The burning pain from heat and cold made him light-headed.

He rode up and down the line, using the fire to drive the wolves back while the humans and Kaibeth and her sellswords got into defensive positions beside the wagons. There were too many gaps. The wolves would not be frightened for long.

Ashok slid off the nightmare’s back and struck the stallion’s flank. The nightmare charged the wolves, his body exploding into flame until only his red eyes were visible. He absorbed a shock of cold from one of the wolves and struck the thing in the face with his hooves. The wolf howled and fell back, the fur around its face blackened. The nightmare pursued.

Ashok turned his attention to the warriors by the wagons. He teleported and reappeared beside Skagi and Cree, who were fighting a wolf with patches of fur missing from the left side of its face.

“We’re calling this one Ugly,” Skagi shouted as a blast of cold caught the warrior in the legs. Skagi went down, but Cree was there to put himself in front of his brother before the wolf could pounce on him. Skagi teleported a safe distance away to regain the feeling in his legs.

“They’re all ugly,” Cree said. He sliced at the wolf with his left katar blade and turned the creature’s fur red.

Ashok became solid and protected their left flank, letting the wagon guard their right. He gave himself enough space to swing his chain and struck out at the wolves as they darted in at the gaps between the wagons. His arms never seemed to tire. Daruk’s energy poured out of him in a ceaseless flood. Was there no end to the spell’s power?

“Do you feel that?” Ashok yelled to Cree as the warrior struck down his wolf again. Skagi was on his feet now and slashed at the thing’s other side.

“Feel what?” Cree said. He stabbed the wolf in the neck. It did not rise again, but its cold attack stiffened Cree’s movements. Ashok saw Cree flex his arms to try to loosen the muscles and coax feeling back into his fingers. Strangely, Ashok no longer felt the cold in his arm-or anywhere else in his body. He was away from the nightmare, but he was burning with fever.

“The bard’s spell,” Ashok said. “I feel it giving me strength.”

“I felt it for a breath,” Skagi said. “We could use another one like it.”

“Look there,” Cree said, distracting them.

Ashok looked to where Cree pointed and saw Ilvani levitating over the caravan. Her gaze was unfocused, her attention directed behind them.

“That’s not a good sign,” Ashok said. “She sees something.”

“More wolves?” Skagi said. “Let them come. They’re practically hurling themselves on our blades.”

“They’re doing it to hamper our grips,” Ashok said. The wolves weren’t so far gone that they didn’t recognize where the threat came from. If they were too cold to hold their weapons, the warriors had no chance. The beasts could pick them off at will. He could already see their warriors succumbing to the freezing breath of the winter wolves and having their bodies mauled by the packs.

The trio moved to help some of these beleaguered defenders. A wolf yanked one of the drovers off his horse. The animal fell screaming under the weight of another wolf. Ashok held his chain in both hands and teleported, reappearing beside the drover’s wolf to strike with necrotic energy dancing along his chain. He willed the shift again and raked the chain along the body of the wolf attacking the horse. The beast howled and turned to bite Ashok, but he was gone again, teleporting in a dizzying circle among the pack.

Ashok appeared again, panting, finally released of some of the energy from Daruk’s spell. Skagi and Cree covered him while he regained his bearings. The three of them moved down the caravan in a line of death while giving the crew a much-needed defense against the wolves.

A blast of necrotic energy rained down on the wolves from above. The beasts blew wild breaths of frost and scattered in all directions to avoid the killing shocks. Ashok looked up and saw the black lightning darting between Ilvani’s outstretched hands. She caught his eye and pointed to the east.

“They’re coming,” she said. “Thorm’s brigands.”

“Come to clean up what’s left of us, just like we thought,” Cree said.

“Godsdamned cowards.” Skagi grunted as a wolf hit him in the shoulder. A blast of cold issued from its mouth and struck him in the face. Stunned, he fell under the weight of the wolf.

Cree dived on top of the beast and wrenched it sideways. It landed in the snow between his body and Skagi’s.

Ashok tossed one end of his chain to Cree and fell beside Skagi with the other. They pinned the struggling wolf against the ground with the chain. The spikes dug into its flesh. The more the wolf struggled to get up, the more it mauled itself on the weapon.

It flipped over on its left side and struck out at Ashok’s face, teeth snapping wildly. Ashok grabbed its jaw and pushed its head up. Teeth sank into his palm, but the pain only made Ashok grip harder. He held the wolf’s head in an immovable grip.

“Skagi!” he cried. He couldn’t turn to see how the other warrior fared, or he’d lose his hold on the wolf. “Can you move?”

He heard Skagi curse, but the words came out slurred. The warrior rose up to his knees and plunged his falchion into the wolf’s neck. Ashok felt the creature’s warm lifeblood coat his fingers. When it went limp, he relaxed his grip on its jaw.

“My fault,” Cree said. He threw the end of Ashok’s chain back to him. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

“We’re all tired.” Skagi dug his fingernails into his cheeks to get the feeling back in his flesh. His words were still slightly garbled. “The brigands are going to hit us just right.”

“Not if Daruk’s theatrics work,” cried a voice.

Mareyn ran up to them. She bled from a shallow wound at her neck, but her eyes were still alight with the excitement of the battle. She offered Ashok a hand to get up. When he clasped her forearm, he left a bloody stain.

“Well, you’ve been busy.” She wiped the blood in the snow. “Is it time to move the caravan along?”

“Yes,” Ashok said. “Tell the others. We don’t want the brigands slamming into us from behind while we’re at a standstill. If that happens, we’ll be eaten up from both directions.”

“Stay alive then, until I return,” Mareyn said. She ran back up the caravan and signaled to the drovers.

Ilvani descended into the back of the wagon nearest Ashok and the brothers. Ashok heard the bard’s voice echoing down the line. He trotted up to Ilvani’s wagon, wand in hand. He held out his other hand to the witch.

“Ready for the finale, my lady?” he said, eyes gleaming.

Ilvani ignored his hand and jumped down from the wagon. “Make sure the others feel your song next time,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “All the others.”

Daruk’s smile stayed in place, but it looked strained. “After you, my lady,” he said.

“Wait,” Ashok said. He went to Ilvani. The brothers fell back to cover the wagons until they got moving. “Watch him,” he whispered to Ilvani.

The witch nodded. “He’s safer with me than with you,” she said. She turned away, and Ashok hurried to help the others.

For the first time since he’d released it, he looked for the nightmare. Wreathed in red flame, the stallion wasn’t hard to spot at the head of the caravan. The wolves, many of them severely injured by the caravan crew, tripped over one another to get out of the path of fire, but the nightmare ran them down.

Ashok felt the longing to join in the chase. That strange, pounding darkness from Daruk’s spell lingered in his body, calling to him like the last notes of a song. He found it hard to resist.

A scream rent the air, pulling Ashok out of his stupor. He recognized Mareyn’s voice and ran toward the front wagons. He saw a pair of female wolves amid a whirling vortex of snow and ice that towered over the caravan. The vortex solidified into the largest wolf Ashok had yet seen. Its pelt was heavy with ice crystals, and its eyes shone a strange crystalline blue. A thick cloud of frost blew from its mouth and filled the air around where the wolves stood.

“Snowfang!” someone cried from the wagons.

Ashok looked for Mareyn, but he didn’t see her. The pair of smaller females dragged a body by the foot away from the caravan. Ashok broke into a run, but the snowfang was in his way. The larger wolf released another breath, and suddenly the air was the air of the fiercest winter storm. It blinded Ashok and everyone around him. He heard their cries and fumbling as they went down.

Behind them, the rear guard cried out that the brigands were coming fast. They would be upon them if the wagons didn’t get moving soon.

Ashok scrubbed furiously at his eyes to try to clear his vision. He kept his chain in front of him, expecting an attack from the larger wolf, but none came. When finally the cold abated, he saw the snowfang running after the other wolves. Those beasts did not appear to be in the grip of the same madness that afflicted the others, or perhaps they’d been able to shake off the effects once Ilvani was far enough away from the caravan. Now they had their prize and were fleeing.

It was the Martuck boy.

“What was that?” Ashok demanded. “It was no natural wolf.”

They stood together in a loose semicircle: Ashok, Skagi, Cree, the merchants, Mareyn, Kaibeth, while the rest of the caravan moved on up the trail. The nightmare paced the trail back and forth between Ashok and the approaching brigands. In the distance, he saw Ilvani and Daruk on the trail-two small figures against the mounted assault of the brigands. They would clash sometime in the next few minutes. Ashok and the rest gathered here were the buffer between the caravan and the brigands, if Daruk and Ilvani let any slip through.

“Snowfang,” Tatigan explained. He wiped blood from a deep cut on his forehead. His hands shook-from cold, pain, or fatigue, Ashok couldn’t guess. They were all weary to the point of breaking. “They’re in the family of winter wolves, but they’re colder bastards than their cousins. While the others attack, they wait until the prey’s soft and then come in to strike.” He cursed when he saw the Martucks standing nearby, leaning on each other for support. “Damn it-forgive me, Leesal. Your boy-”

“He might still be alive,” Vlahna said as she rode back to them. Wolf blood streaked her legs and arm where she held her chain. “I saw the wolves. They haven’t left the trail yet to go to their dens, but it’s clear that’s where they’re headed. It’s too dangerous to have at the boy on the trail. They’ll wait until they’re safe.”

“Give me your horse,” Mareyn said, grabbing Vlahna’s reins.

Vlahna wrenched them out of her grip. “They’ll tear you to pieces, Mareyn. You won’t take on a snowfang alone.” She raised her leg when Mareyn reached for the reins again. “I’ll plant you in the ground, human, no matter how short we are on blades, if you paw at me again.”

“So send more warriors,” the elder Martuck cried. “If there’s a chance he’s still alive, we have to try.”

“How thin would you have us stretch ourselves?” Vlahna said. “We’ve lost nearly half our strength in this last push over the mountains. A lot of good men and women are gone.”

Ashok heard the grief in her voice. “Tuva?” he said.

Vlahna glanced at him and shook her head once. “Still with the caravan. He won’t make it to Rashemen.”

“Give Mareyn a horse,” Ashok said. “I’ll go with her to get the boy back.”

Vlahna laughed harshly. “You and your stallion we can spare least of all, Ashok. If the witch and the bard fail, you’ll let that thing unleash a scream that will bring the mountain down on our heads. It’s the only way to buy us a chance against the brigands.”

“They won’t fail.”

“I won’t risk it.”

“I’ve seen the nightmare’s speed,” Cree said. “We’ll hold them until Ashok gets back.” He glanced down the trail. “But if you’re going, go now, by the gods. There’s not much time.”

Ashok held Vlahna’s gaze. She stared him down, until finally, she nodded reluctantly.

“Go,” she said. “But get back here soon.”

Ashok ran to the nightmare while Vlahna dismounted to give Mareyn her horse.

He swung his leg over the stallion and pulled himself up. He was aware of every cut to his flesh, every wolf bite. The lingering cold from their attacks seeped into his bones, but while he rode the nightmare, it wouldn’t slow him down.

“Stay far enough behind me so the horse won’t bolt when we attack,” Ashok told Mareyn. “When I raise my fist, be ready for the scream. Protect yourself, understand?”

“Just ride,” Mareyn said grimly. “I’ll be behind you.”

Ashok didn’t need to spur the nightmare on. He leaned forward and the stallion thundered up the trail. Fire spread from his fetlocks and tail, and the ice on the hard ground turned to water and mud beneath his hooves.

Ilvani stood in the shadow of a rocky outcropping twenty feet above her. It was snowing again, or perhaps it had never really stopped. She was so used to it by now that she hardly noticed the sting of cold on her face.

What she couldn’t ignore was the hemmed-in feeling she had out here. In front of her lay the brigands. Behind her, she heard Rashemi whispers. Already she could feel the spirits of the land calling to her and pulling at her. Above her, an owl circled in the gray sky. It watched her as she waited for Daruk to finish his survey of the area.

The bard stood several feet away, gauging the distance between them and the brigands approaching on horseback. They would be here in minutes. She already felt the hoofbeats shaking the ground. Above her, the owl uttered a sharp warning cry and flew away. Ilvani almost asked Daruk if he’d heard the call, but she knew he hadn’t.

The bard walked over to her and rubbed his hands together for warmth before he drew his wand. “This is the best place for the show,” he told her. “Are you up to it?”

“We’ll ask,” Ilvani said. “It’s up to the mountains to answer.”

“Well, this should be interesting, then,” Daruk said.

Ilvani nodded and cast a spell. She levitated up the side of the outcropping until she reached the lip. Testing it with her weight, she found it solid enough and stepped down. Her boots slid an inch on the slick surface, but she righted herself and surveyed the pass from the height.

She saw now what Daruk had been studying so intently. Two narrow crevasses half-filled with snow crisscrossed each other and cut the trade route. Vlahna had tested them when the caravan came through and found one was solid enough for the wagons to pass over, but the other was a death trap-loose snow fell out from under a traveler’s foot and would send him or her plunging into a deep grave. The gap was not large, but they’d had to put down planks for the wagons to cross in safety.

Ilvani reached into her bag and pulled out a clear glass sphere with a shock of red silk trapped inside it. Concentrating, Ilvani cast a spell that filled the air with an icy fog. It spiraled down from her perch and slinked across the ground until it covered every part of the narrow pass below her. Through the fog, Daruk strode to meet the riders. Ilvani muttered another spell and pointed at the bard.

The riders came barreling up the pass a few breaths later but pulled up short when they saw the bard step into their midst. At their head, Thorm held up a hand, and the warriors reached for their crossbows. None of them had seen Ilvani yet.

I am invisible, just like the owls. The thought drifted through Ilvani’s mind. She was a floating spirit, removed and cold. With her other hand, she reached into her pouch and closed her fingers around the stone Ashok had given her from the Tuigan grave. The sharp edges pressed into her flesh, reminding her that she was here. She was real.

“Well met, fellow travelers,” Daruk greeted them as if they were old friends. He ignored the crossbows trained upon him. “I’m here to inform you that I’ve placed a toll on this part of the Golden Way. All who wish to pass must pay me, for I am the road keeper.”

Chuckles and scoffs came from the riders. They didn’t know whether to be irritated or amused by the human. Ilvani noticed that the bard never flinched. He was deep in the part he’d chosen to play.

A human like that was dangerous. He’d chosen parts for them all, but whatever he was playing at, the bard was most interested in Ashok. Daruk had infected him with Shar’s power. She had smelledit on Ashok’s skin. Why had he done it? Was it only to see how Ashok reacted?

She had no time to discover his motives. She must protect him now. Protecting him meant protecting the caravan. Arms at her sides, she curled her fingers into her palms and whispered a few words. Slowly, by inches, the mist rose around Daruk’s legs.

“I know some of you are probably concerned that the fee will be too much for your company to bear,” the bard said. “Fear not. I’m a reasonable man.”

Ilvani heard the magic in his voice. To her it was only a soft, musical hum, but it had a hypnotic quality that kept the riders listening when they should have been firing. The brigands focused on the bard’s words and didn’t notice the change in the weather.

He’s telling you, but you can’t hear him, Ilvani thought. She gazed down at Thorm. So loud he’s telling you-don’t watch your feet. Be ready to ride, to run this fool into the ground, and take back what’s yours. Take back your goods, and take from all the others.

Don’t watch your feet.

“So, who will be the first to pay?” Daruk said. His voice was deceptively light. Ilvani heard the threat beneath the words.

Thorm glanced at the men with the crossbows. “Kill him,” he said.

Time slowed as Ilvani heard the twang of the crossbow strings releasing their bolts. The deadly shots hit Daruk in the chest and neck and passed harmlessly through his flesh as if it were smoke.

“Well, look at that,” the bard said. He touched his chest and feigned a look of awe. “A miracle, that’s what this is.” He winked at the brigands, and the illusion of him disappeared.

“A godsdamned miracle.”

Now his voice came from farther up the pass. He smiled, raised his wand, and drove it into the ground.

A thunderous roar shook the air, traveled through rock and ice, and knocked three of the brigands from their rearing horses. Ilvani put her free hand against the rock wall behind her and felt the pulse through the stone. With her other hand, she clutched her sphere and called on magic to strengthen Daruk’s spell.

“Bring it down on their heads,” she whispered, lacing the words with arcane power. “Bring the mountain down on them. Bury them under the ice.”

The confused riders instinctively drew together. Thorm pointed to Daruk and yelled something unintelligible. It set the brigands in motion. They charged blindly through the mist.

Thorm’s was among the first of the horses to hit the disguised crevasse. For one breath, they were a charging wall of death, and the next they were simply gone, plunging through the mist to their doom. The riders nearest him immediately saw the trick and yanked desperately on their reins, but for several of them it was just too late. They, too, fell and died.

The others retreated, which gave Daruk time to get off the path and away from the trembling mountain. Rocks started to fall around Ilvani. She slid her sphere back into her bag and turned to watch the snow slide down the mountain toward her.

The white wall rushed toward her amid the rumbling echoes of Daruk’s magic and her own amplification spell. For a breath, Ilvani felt as the other shadar-kai did, staring into the face of death with such fascination that it made her heart pound. The avalanche would bury her if she didn’t move-she would be gone in an instant.

Shouts echoed from the pass below her. The riders had seen her, but they were far more interested in the avalanche. A few of them spurred their horses forward and tried to jump the crevasse. Some made it, but many didn’t.

Ilvani raised her arms and laughed aloud. The sound was lost in the thundering roar. She felt so alive. The white wall filled her vision, and the cold caressed her face.

Regretfully, Ilvani teleported away. Her body became insubstantial, and the cold, damp caress was gone.

When she reappeared next to Daruk, Ilvani saw the brigands were gone, and a fresh layer of powdery snow covered the ground. The scene was peaceful and still. Overhead, the owl had returned and circled the pass, but it made no sound.

“Finely played, witch,” Daruk said. “We work well together, yes?”

“Yes. This is the last time we will,” Ilvani said.

“Is that a prophecy?”

She looked up at him. He was taller than she was, but that wasn’t surprising. He didn’t try to use his height to intimidate her but merely stood watching her with curiosity.

“You’ll try to take him,” Ilvani said. “You’ve already begun the game. But you were right when you said I’d be a player. I won’t let you have him.”

He smiled benignly. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, witch, but it sounds like madness to me.”

“So it is,” Ilvani said. She added, almost to herself. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t truth in it.”

“What if he decides to come of his own free will?” Daruk said. “What will you do then?”

Then I’ll have to kill you, Ilvani thought. She didn’t voice her decision aloud but trusted Daruk could read her black eyes well enough.

Ashok heard the distant thunderclap and felt the ground shake beneath him. Power from arcane and natural sources filled the air. He knew then that Ilvani and Daruk had been successful in springing their trap.

Ahead of him, he followed the snowfang tracks and those of the smaller winter wolves. He drew his chain, braced himself as the nightmare jumped a narrow crevasse, and held on when the beast veered off the trail to follow the wolf scent.

Ashok heard Mareyn behind him some distance on Vlahna’s horse. She stayed safely back from the nightmare’s fire but kept pace with him. He glanced back at her once and saw her gaze fixed on the trail.

Suddenly, the tracks stopped. Ashok had no time to react before a blast of ice and wind swelled up around him. It enveloped the nightmare and for a breath extinguished his flame. They were a black speck in a sea of white. Blinded, Ashok swung out at random with his chain. He breathed in the frigid air and tasted wolf scent.

The nightmare screamed. The sound echoed off the rock walls around them and made Ashok throw his hands up to cover his ears. In response, the icy wind abated, but the nightmare’s flame was a dull blue, diminished.

When his vision cleared, Ashok saw the icy vortex move toward Mareyn. The warrior was ready for it. She dismounted and let her horse ride away to safety. Drawing her blade, she dodged out of the path of the ministorm as Ashok jumped off the nightmare’s back and came up on its other side with his chain. The vortex coalesced into the form of the snowfang.

Ashok readied his chain, but he kept an eye on the rocks and crevices around them. The snowfang had used the storm to cover the tracks of the other two wolves. Now they hid somewhere with the boy, waiting to strike.

Up close, the snowfang was immense. Thick strands of ice-matted fur hung off its body. It growled at Mareyn but kept one eye on Ashok and his chain. It tried to appraise both threats, but Ashok wasn’t about to give the creature the chance to take their measure.

Ashok attacked with his chain. The spiked end struck the ground harmlessly as the wolf dodged the strike. Ashok was surprised at its speed. Since it had such a bulky body, he’d expected the wolf to have no grace.

Mareyn took advantage of the wolf’s distraction to wade in with her sword. Ashok saw her expression change from fierce concentration to confusion and pain as she stabbed at the thing’s chest. Her blade moved with agonizing slowness. She fumbled the strike and barely grazed the skin of the beast.

Ashok ran forward to aid her and encountered a wall of cold so intense that it stole his breath. His fingers went numb; he barely had the presence of mind to keep a grip on his weapon. This creature’s aura was worse than any three of the winter wolves put together. At close range, the snowfang outmatched them.

“Get away from it!” Ashok cried. He staggered back and automatically looked for the nightmare’s heat. The stallion stood several feet away. He had not fully regained his fire.

Ashok felt dread well up inside him for the first time since the battle with the wolves had begun. If the nightmare didn’t join the battle, they were dead. Either the snowfang would wear them down with cold, or the other two wolves would spring on them when they least expected it.

Mareyn kept her sword in front of her and backed away from the snowfang, but the creature came after her, its claws raking deep gouges in her breastplate. Off balance under the weight of the attack, Mareyn collapsed. Her sword was her savior. She slashed wildly, protecting her body, and instead of biting her, the wolf retreated.

She didn’t escape unscathed. The wolf tore a long gash in her side. Blood ran down her leg and pooled in the snow. She cupped the wound with her left hand, but Ashok doubted it would be enough to stop the bleeding.

Ashok planted his feet and struck out from a distance with his chain. The snowfang had grace, but it couldn’t dodge the speed of his attacks. Keeping the chain always moving in deadly arcs, Ashok drew the monster’s attention away from Mareyn to give the warrior time to recover.

The wolf hissed a breath that carried more ice and snow. Ashok went down in a crouch and whipped his cloak in front of his face to protect his eyes from the attack. The numbing cold enveloped him again, and when Ashok recovered enough to bring his weapon up, he misjudged the strike and slashed his own cheek with his weapon. Warm blood dribbled down his face and returned some of the feeling to his deadened skin.

Inspired-or desperate-Ashok wound his chain around his arm as Vlahna had done. He had no hard leather to protect him, so the spikes pierced his flesh. The action went against Uwan’s edict that the shadar-kai must not weaken themselves by marking their own flesh, but Ashok had no choice. There was a greater threat here than the fear that he might diminish himself. He had to be able to fight through the cold, or he, Mareyn, and Les would die.

In the wake of its icy breath, the snowfang lunged at him. Ashok knew he couldn’t get any colder, so he stretched out his arms, absorbed the wolf’s weight, and let it drive him into the snow. He hugged the creature close to drive the spikes into its flesh. The wolf howled and snapped at him. It sank its teeth into his other forearm and shook vigorously. Ashok heard his armor tear. The wolf crushed the bone scales and punctured hard muscle.

Burning pain shot up Ashok’s arm, restoring life to him even as the draining blood threatened to take it back. The snowfang had no idea that it helped Ashok by inflicting these wounds. He hugged the monster tighter and felt a rib crack as the wolf tried to tear his arm off. Neither would let go of their prizes.

Distantly, Ashok heard a deep-throated shout. He thought at first it was the wolves, but then he realized it was a human voice. The voice said something in a language Ashok didn’t recognize. A breath later, he saw Mareyn in his periphery, half running, half stumbling toward the wolf. The warrior jumped and landed on the snowfang’s back. She hacked with her sword at the creature’s flesh, finally penetrating its frozen hide.

The wolf jerked its head up and around, biting at the warrior. She gripped its flanks with her legs as if she rode a horse and kept striking, ignoring the cold that had turned her skin a wasted blue color.

A deep slash to its neck sent the snowfang into a frenzy. It broke Ashok’s hold and rolled away in the snow. The force of its retreat threw Mareyn off its back, and Ashok felt his own rib snap as the beast rolled over him and picked itself up. Gasping, he came up to his knees and held his arm up in front of him, showing the wolf the blood-covered spikes.

Ashok heard a loud howl from behind and above him. He turned just in time to see one of the other winter wolves leap from a ledge farther up the mountain. Ashok teleported out of its way and appeared near where Mareyn lay in the snow.

The wolf hit the ground and limped to the snowfang. It left a trail of blood in the snow.

“Did you … hit it?” Mareyn said. Her voice was weak from the cold. “Before you teleported?”

“I didn’t have time,” Ashok said. “I heard a voice-”

“Maybe it’s the caravan … catching up,” Mareyn said.

“They can’t be moving that fast.” Ashok willed his flesh to solidify, even though it meant succumbing to the biting cold. The snowfang, distracted, licked the other wolf’s wounds like a mother. Ashok considered his and Mareyn’s own injuries with a grim outlook. If they didn’t get warm soon, they would no longer be able to walk, let alone fight. Mareyn’s side wound still bled. Ashok didn’t know how she found the will to stay on her feet, but there she was, standing beside him again when finally his form became solid.

Ashok didn’t wait for the snowfang to finish its ministrations. He came forward again and struck the wolf a blow to the hind leg with his bound arm. The spikes laid open its flesh and exposed muscle, but there was not nearly enough strength behind the attack to cripple the beast. The snowfang turned and clawed Ashok’s breastplate, tearing into the bone scales. Mareyn attacked from the side but had to turn away when the other wolf struck her from behind.

We’re going to die, Ashok thought dimly as the wolf snapped at his face. The cold made his movements seem disconnected from his thoughts. He might as well have been watching the scene from outside his body. He registered the deep red stains in the snow, the weakening of the snowfang’s attacks. They wouldn’t lose the fight by much, but they would still lose.

A fire ignited in Ashok’s periphery.

He saw it reflected in the snowfang’s blue eyes. The nightmare had come back to life, shaking off the preternatural cold. His whole body burned, illuminating the scene in gold. A scream shook the air, and Ashok felt the torturous sound slam into him, jolting him back into his body.

“Take him,” Ashok growled.

The nightmare charged, eating up the distance between them in a breath. The stallion reared and brought his hooves down on the snowfang’s back. Ashok barely had time to roll out of the way before the snowfang fell. Pinned, the wolf got the full brunt of the nightmare’s fire. But the nightmare wasn’t done. The stallion sank his teeth into the wolf’s neck and tore at its flesh.

Ashok got to his feet and went to help Mareyn with the other wolf. The smaller one was weak from its wounds and was nearly dead when Ashok got to it. Mareyn leaned on Ashok for support, and together they watched the nightmare’s fire finally penetrate the aura of cold surrounding the snowfang. Its body caught and burned.

When the snowfang lay still in the snow, the nightmare’s fire died away to a dim blaze that Ashok felt even across the space between them. He started toward the stallion, but stopped when Mareyn resisted.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m not going near … that one,” she said. “But I’m grateful.”

“His fire will warm us,” Ashok said. “If we don’t get heat back into our bodies, we’ll die before the caravan reaches us.”

Mareyn sighed and nodded. She let him lead her over to the nightmare but stopped before she was close enough to touch him.

“Gods, I can smell the blood on its breath,” she said. “But it is warm, at least.”

“I don’t notice the scent anymore,” Ashok said.

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, absorbing the nightmare’s heat. As soon as she was warm enough, Mareyn moved away. She looked at the bodies of the wolves in consternation.

“The other one must still be around here somewhere,” she said. “It’ll have Les.”

“There are tracks here.” Ashok pointed to where the other wolf had come down from the snow-covered rocks.

They picked their way carefully up the slope and came eventually to a ridge that looked down on a bowl-shaped valley lined with jagged rocks and icicles.

Below them, hanging off a large rock, they found the body of the other winter wolf. Les lay in the snow beside the dead wolf, on what looked like an animal skin. A burly man crouched over the wolf with a skinning knife. He looked up when Ashok and Mareyn crested the ridge.

He had wild, red-blond hair and a tangled beard that half obscured his wrinkled face. A wolf pelt rode on his back. For a brief instant, he reminded Ashok of his father, a big man in hide armor, his hair shining red in the meager sunlight. The vision hit him sharply and made Ashok catch his breath. He recovered quickly and caught Mareyn’s arm when she started down the slope.

“We don’t know he’s an ally,” Ashok warned her.

“That’s why I haven’t put my blade away,” Mareyn said, but she was no longer looking at him. She fixed her attention on Les’s unconscious form.

As she moved down the slope, Ashok called out to the man in Common. “Well met. You have our thanks for killing the wolf. If you hadn’t, we’d be dead.”

The man’s gaze shifted from him to Mareyn. It was impossible to read his expression. He put his skinning knife away and pulled a length of rope from his belt. He used it to tie the wolf’s back legs together.

Mareyn had reached the boy. Ashok kept his weapon looped around his arm, but the man ignored Mareyn and stood up. He turned his back to them and dragged the wolf carcass up the slope in the opposite direction.

“Are you of the Rashemi?” Ashok called after him. He knew they must be nearly in the witches’ lands.

The man paused to look back at them. His expression reminded Ashok of Ilvani. He looked at them without seeing them, almost as if he inhabited another world entirely, and they were only shadows probing at the edge of his vision. Then the man turned away and resumed dragging his burden up the slope. Ashok watched him until he was almost out of sight.

“Ashok, we have to get Les down to the nightmare,” Mareyn said.

Shaken from his thoughts, Ashok bent to examine the boy. His leg was broken, twisted out awkwardly from his body, but otherwise there were no physical wounds. The wolf’s teeth had torn away most of his boot, but the flesh beneath was intact. The boy’s eyes were half-open, but he didn’t seem to recognize Mareyn, even when she spoke to him in a soothing voice.

She was right. Cold was the enemy now.

He ripped off some pieces of his bone scale armor to use as a splint. The snowfang had ruined most of the breastplate. He’d have to replace the rest. Mareyn took rope from her pack and together they worked on the boy’s leg.

When they tried to move him, Les came to life at last. The pain made him jerk and thrash about in the snow. Ashok took hold of the boy’s shoulders and pressed him down while Mareyn spoke quickly in his ear. After long minutes, she got him to know her, and he calmed. She took her cloak off and draped it over him, rubbing his arms and legs to warm him.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Take his shoulders. I’ll brace his legs so the pain won’t overwhelm him.”

They lifted him. The boy moaned but made no other complaint. Even so, it was a long, slow climb out of the small valley and back down to the nightmare. Ashok carried the boy over to the stallion and started to drape him over the nightmare’s back.

“You can’t mean to let that thing carry him?” Mareyn said incredulously. “It’s a demon, not a packhorse.”

“It’s the only way to keep him alive until we get back to the caravan,” Ashok said. “You and I are too weak to carry him far.”

“He’s barely conscious. What’s to stop the nightmare from invading his dreams?”

Ashok wouldn’t lie to her. “Nothing,” he said. “You’ll have to watch him closely once we return. He’ll need someone nearby who can tell him what’s real and what isn’t. At least he’ll be alive.”

Mareyn opened her mouth to argue, but in the end, she said nothing. They arranged the boy carefully on the nightmare’s back and started down the trade route to meet the caravan.

For a long time, neither spoke. Weariness and pain marked Mareyn’s face. She checked the boy to see if he still breathed. Her own wound bled through the hasty bandage she’d put on it. Ashok watched her struggle through the pain to put one foot in front of the other.

The idea of pain as a weakening force in humans was a concept he still could not grasp. He wanted to tell Mareyn to use the pain, to let the burn in her side act as the anchor that kept her centered in this world.

Humans functioned differently. Pain yanked at their souls the way the shadows pried at his, tempting them to oblivion.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Mareyn said abruptly.

“Like what?” Ashok said.

“Like a shadar-kai.” She laughed, but it turned into a groan. “When you’re human and you’ve lived in Ikemmu long enough, you start to notice that shadar-kai look. It’s either distaste or intense fascination-the fascination is more disturbing, if you want the truth. That’s how you looked at me just now.”

“I’m sorry,” Ashok said. “It’s just-”

“I know,” Mareyn said. “We’re too different for it to be otherwise.”

Silence fell between them again, but it didn’t last long. Mareyn slowed her pace until she was barely moving at all. Ashok came up behind her and touched her shoulder.

“We need to keep moving,” he said. “The nightmare can carry both of you if you need to rest.”

“Not even Tymora’s blessing could coax me onto that beast,” Mareyn said. “And I have to keep a clear head. I can’t afford to have nightmares haunting me the rest of this journey.”

“At least stay close to its warmth.”

They picked up the pace. After another long silence, Mareyn said, “Did someone do that for you-tell you what was real and what wasn’t-when you first tamed the beast?”

“Vedoran,” Ashok said. “He was a sellsword and one of my first companions when I came to Ikemmu. He was with me when I awoke from the worst of the dreams.”

“The two of you were close?”

“For a time, yes.”

“But he’s gone now, isn’t he?” Mareyn said. “Otherwise he would be here on this journey with you.”

“Yes. Vedoran would have relished a challenge like this,” Ashok said, gazing at the unforgiving landscape, the beauty of the snow-covered mountains. When he turned away, he caught her looking at him with a wistful, sad expression in her eyes. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking of a question that’s hard to ask, and maybe it’s not entirely fair.”

“You can ask anything you want,” Ashok said. He noticed that conversation distracted her from the pain, kept her alert and moving.

“When you volunteered to come with me to save Les, what was your first thought? Did you do it out of concern for the boy? Was it for me, or did you do it because you wanted to hunt down the snowfang?”

Ashok thought back to the moments after the wolf battle. They’d all been distracted by the need for haste, both to evade the brigands and to catch up with the escaping wolves. The snowfang had blinded him with its frost breath. Ashok remembered feeling anger, both at the snowfang and at himself for being caught off guard. He’d promised himself it wouldn’t happen again, that the next time they encountered each other, Ashok would have the upper hand.

He tried to sort out where in the tangle of those thoughts he’d considered Les or Mareyn, but he couldn’t get past the excitement he’d felt at the possibility of the chase, of using the nightmare’s fire to burn the snowfang down.

His silence seemed answer enough for Mareyn. The wistful expression deepened. “I didn’t really expect anything more or less from you,” she admitted. “And you’ll always have my deepest gratitude for what you did for me-for Les-out here.”

“There’s no need to-”

“Yes, there is,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s strange-the other races in Ikemmu, especially the humans, view your people in so many different lights. I used to wonder why your leaders revered Tempus. All this time, I’d convinced myself the shadar-kai were meant to be Tymora’s servants. Your fortunes and fates are so mercurial. You plunge into every experience as if it could be your last, and you dance right to the edge. I love to watch you when you fight for the same reason. I thought you were embracing life by behaving that way.”

Ashok shook his head. “Most of us are just trying to avoid death.”

“Yes, and you’ll court any force to do it,” Mareyn said, “fortune, misfortune, creation, destruction. For your people, survival comes before everything-fear, compassion, love, hate. To put any other emotion first is a struggle for you.”

“A struggle, but it’s worth the cost,” Ashok said, remembering Reltnar and the slaughter room of his enclave. There lay the consequences of putting survival above everything else.

“The night we shared together-for you, it was a means to keep from fading,” Mareyn said. “You don’t seek companionship for the same reasons I do. I might be looking for fun, for comfort in the night, a taste of joy on a hard, cold journey. But you-you’ll share pleasure with me, but if it’s meant to aid your own survival, I don’t think I want to be responsible for that.”

“So you don’t think we share Tymora’s kiss?” Ashok said, an edge of mockery in his voice. “Our paths didn’t cross by the will of your goddess so that we could bring good fortune to each other?”

For a long time, she didn’t reply. He thought he’d angered her. Then she stopped and laid her hand over his. “Do you think I’m afraid of you, Ashok?” she asked. “Is that why you try to keep me at bay? Or do you truly hate the gods that much?”

“I ride the nightmare-the demon; you’d be wise to be afraid,” Ashok said harshly.

She laughed, which shocked him. “Oh, Ashok, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the most frightening thing I’ve seen in Faerun. You’re not.” She stroked the scars on his knuckles. “I’ve seen things here you can’t imagine. That’s why I want to be careful not to treat you too lightly. You’re not ready. Someday you might be, and maybe our paths will cross again when you return from Rashemen.”

“Nothing will have changed,” Ashok said. “You said it yourself-we’re too different. I’m not like you.”

“We’ll see. Until then, take care of Ilvani,” Mareyn said. “I want her to find the peace she needs.”

“So do I.” In that, at least, they were united. “I hope whatever path you walk continues to bring your goddess’s favor,” he said. “May Tymora never disappoint you.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, until they heard the rumble of wagons and the snuffling of weary horses. Slowly the caravan came into view, diminished but safe.

“They did it,” Ashok said. “Ilvani and Daruk drove back the brigands.”

“Tymora be praised,” Mareyn said. Briefly, she embraced him, and they went to join the others.